


Everyone is Gay (Sam Blames the Internet)

by scorpiontales



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Humor, Misunderstandings, POV Sam Winchester, Post Season/Series 08, Season/Series 08 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:55:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/scorpiontales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck in bed, Sam's research on fallen angels takes him to Supernatural fansites. He stumbles on the concept of Destiel.<br/>His brother and Cas can't be a thing. He would have noticed? Right?</p><p>(Where Sam tries to be supportive and freaks everyone out in the process.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone is Gay (Sam Blames the Internet)

**Author's Note:**

> So, a few things first:  
> This is my first time writing for Supernatural and likely my last. My friend dared me to write this and I caved because the concept was too good to ignore.  
> This is gen in my mind, but it's open to interpretation like the show, thus the tags.  
> Everything I wrote here is from Sam's POV. So, for the record, I don't care what you ship. Ship away! I'll be here in gen land, not caring.

 

            In retrospect, if Sam had to blame anything for the complicated mess that had evolved out of the last few weeks, it would have to be boredom.

            He had been in bed since the angels fell, sick, tired, and terribly, terribly bored. He had stopped passing out, which was an improvement, but as long as he was coughing up blood, Dean had restricted him to bed rest, no if, ands or buts. Sam usually would have blown this aside, but sadly this time Dean had help in the form of a former angel and a prophet of the lord who seemed all too willing to make sure that Sam stayed in bed unless Dean said otherwise. So stuck in his room, Sam took refuge in the internet, researching, playing internet chess, and watching horrible television.

            It wasn’t much. Sam didn’t do sitting around well. Hell, Winchesters didn’t do sitting around well. The last time any of them had been on bed rest had been when Dean broke his leg, and Sam was sure he had watched enough Spanish soap operas to predict every plot twist known to man. So after Sam looked up everything about falling angels he could find, he threw in the towel and caved.

            Sam had almost shut the gates of hell, but forcing himself to click on the “angels” tab to a Supernatural fansite was ten times more painful.

            The banner at the top was better than he expected, but the then again, he wasn’t expecting much. Drawings of his and his brother’s fictional counterparts guarded both sides of the banner, both of them ripped, sullen looking and somewhat underdressed. Sam averted his eyes and scrolled down to the angels section, hoping that perhaps Chuck’s readers had caught something he had missed.

            They had caught some things, but sadly most of them Sam already knew. He sighed, scrolling back up to the top of the page to delete his internet history when something caught his eye.

            There were a few headers at the top, each of them with a different word. Sam recognized a few, some from their last search into the world of Supernatural books (that Sam had spent a good deal of his time trying to repress), but there was one in the top right corner that he didn’t recognize. Right there in small white typeface, was the word “Destiel.”

            What the hell was that?

            Sam almost clicked it. Almost. Then, thinking better of the idea, he typed out the term into his search bar, and pressed enter.

            There was something important to know about Google searching. While it was a powerful tool, one had to keep in mind that with such great power comes great potential for emotional trauma. Like if one forgot to turn of the image search function, for example.

            The page loaded, full of pictures of Castiel and Dean in…uh…interesting positions. Sam yelped, closing his eyes, and tried vainly to click out of the window without looking at the key pad. He reached for the top blanket, used it to cover the bottom half of the screen, and changed the function to web before clicking enter, even though he had a pretty good idea of what the term meant.

            The first summary told him all he needed to know. Some readers of the Supernatural books thought Dean and Cas were a thing. He really should have seen this coming. Sam laughed, shook his head and went to look at the list of “evidence.” Yeah, Dean and Cas stared at each other a lot. And yeah, they did go to huge lengths to get each other out of situations. And yeah, okay, Dean did share his pie with Cas that one time and-

            Sam stopped thinking and closed his laptop. There was no way. He was Dean’s brother; he would have noticed, right? Right?

            He wasn’t reassured when the silence of the room answered him.

***

            “Sam, are you okay?”

            Sam looked up from his hamburger, blinking a few times. Kevin was looking at him in concern, some ketchup dripping down his chin. The kid had gotten better over the last few weeks, but Sam could still see the circles under his eyes. Sam shook his head, trying to get himself to focus, but it was hard when Dean and Castiel were sitting across the table.

            There were a few problems when it came to having a liberal arts education. Sure, it gave you the ability to think critically, but it also gave you the ability to see way too much into things. In his English classes, Sam always ended up reading the books again once his teacher had pointed out a critical theme, or plot point that he had missed.

            Sam felt like he was back in English, only the teacher was screaming online fangirls and the book was his brother. Which frankly, was too creepy, even for him.

            “Cas, you can’t have a burger without cheese on it. That’s criminal,” Dean said, looking at Cas’s burger with disdain usually reserved for supernatural creatures.

            Cas shrugged, looking down at his burger sullenly. He had been in a bit of a funk ever since he fell, and Dean had been on a mission to pull him out of it. “There was no more cheese in the fridge. I didn’t wish to complain.”

            Dean rolled his eyes, sliding his burger to Cas. He grabbed Cas’s burger, placing it back on his side of the table. “You can have mine. I’m not letting you eat my cooking without all the fixings.”

            Sam outright stared. “You’re going to eat a burger without cheese?”

            Dean stuffed the burger into his mouth, taking a bite. “I’ll survive.” He turned to Cas. “What do you think?”

            Cas took a bite, making a noise that wasn’t appropriate for the dinner table. Kevin turned a bit red and Sam made a mental note to teach Cas table manners. Cas nodded, and placed the burger down on his plate, licking his lips.   

            “I like this dish.”

            Sam looked to Dean for his reaction. After a few seconds, Dean full on grinned. Like a beaming kind of grin. The grin that was reserved for finding classic rock tapes on sale and cases with strippers. Sam gaped.

            “Sam, are you alright?” Cas looked to Sam, leaning across the table. Sam resisted the urge to groan.

            Damn liberal arts education.

***

            Sam was going to go mad. Again. He was going to have an epic breakdown questioning himself every five minutes, and on his hospital room door he would have a sign that said “Here lives Sam Winchester, driven crazy by fangirl theroies.”

            He had to put an end to this, for his own sanity. Sam could live if Dean was dating Cas on the sly (it would be weird, but hell, their lives were weird, and as long as Dean was happy, he didn’t care) and he could live Dean and Cas were just really good friends and Sam was spending too much time on the internet.

            At first, he went for the latter theory. Dean would have told him, right? It wasn’t like he’d given a shit before about Sam’s approval when it came to his dating habits. But then again, the internet said differently. The internet said Dean was worried what Sam would think. The internet said that Dean was closeted.

            The internet also said that Dean had worn pink satin panties once, but Sam brushed that one off as very eccentric theory.

            The rest though, they had some merit. Sam had noticed Dean’s obsession with Doctor Sexy and Dean’s denial of his man-crush. So maybe they had a point. What was he going to do about it? It wasn’t like he could sit Dean down and go “you know, if you happen to be hypothetically gay for some dudes, I really don’t care as long as you’re happy.” That wouldn’t even be a chick flick moment; it would be a full on afterschool special. No, Sam was going to have to be subtle.

            May God (the asshole) help him.

***

            He started small. Commenting on the news reports. Mentioning how it was awesome that people could get married these days. Putting up a little pride flag magnet on the fridge. Enough to get the whole “support” thing across.

            Dean, of course, didn’t notice. He was busy teaching Cas about the world of Star Trek. Apparently, Spock cheered Cas up. But while the two members of the household the message was meant ignored it completely, at least someone noticed.

            “Dude, I appreciate the effort, but I’m not gay,” Kevin said, walking into the kitchen, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. Sam sighed, placing his head on the table and moaned.

            “Wasn’t for you.” Kevin stared at the pride flag on the fridge and then back at Sam.

            “For Charlie? I’m pretty sure she already knows you guys don’t care.”

            Sam took a deep breath. It was time to man up. Be honest. Face his stupid internal crisis head on. “It isn’t for Charlie either. It’s for.” He waved his right hand in the direction of the room with the projector, where Cas and Dean were watching “The Wrath of Khan.” Kevin’s brow furrowed before his eyes grew wide.

            “Really? Them? Are they?”

            Sam shrugged. “I don’t think-I don’t know. Just thought, you know, in case.” He gestured meekly with his hands. Kevin took a bite of his cereal, leaning back against the counter.

            “Why don’t you just ask him like a normal person?”

            “Dean doesn’t do emotional talks.”

            Kevin shook his head, walking out of the room. “Idiots.”

            Bobby would have been proud.

 

 

***

            Charlie figured out Sam’s problem when he tried to buy a Pride bumper sticker from the local Target.

            “Dude, if you plan on putting that on the Impala, Dean is going to kill you. With fire. And maybe add salt for good measure.”

            Sam turned around to find Charlie standing there, her arms crossed, a smile on her face. Sam placed the bumper sticker back on the rack and reaching forward to give Charlie a hug. Ten minutes later, they were sitting at the small coffee shop next door, Sam lamenting his life.

            “If you want to show your hypothetical support, just tell the man,” Charlie said, taking a long swig of her coffee. “You two are terrible at communicating in subtext; I’ve seen the results myself. Just go up to him, say “if you’re gay for Cas, I don’t care” have some awkward small talk, and then pretend like it never happened. Easy as pie.” She paused, taking another drink. “This is way too weird, even for me.”

            Sam stared down at his latte and wondered when his life had gotten so complicated.

***

            Everything came to head on a Sunday evening when Kevin and Cas were out bonding (Sam didn't even want to consider what they were doing). Dean grabbed the pride magnet from the fridge, placed it on the table and sat down across from Sam, who was taking a bit of a cat nap. He tapped Sam on the shoulder and the man woke up with a start, placing both hands on the table before he saw the magnet.

            “We need to talk,” Dean said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He looked vaguely uncomfortable. “You have something to tell me, Sam?”

            Sam cleared his throat. He could do this. It was a simple statement. He’d done harder. He opened his mouth-

            “You know Sam, I don’t give a shit who you want to date, so if this is some sort of-“

            Sam’s brain may have broken in that exact moment because his mind went clear. Power off. Reboot. He stared at Dean for a few seconds. Dean had turned somewhat red, tapping his fingers on the desk. Sam kept up the staring.

            “Mind saying something? This is awkward enough as it is,” Dean said, looking down at the table top. Sam forced his brain to get back in motion.

            “Uh, sorry, caught me off guard. I didn’t, I don’t, I’m not-“ He held up a finger, trying to regain control of his thoughts. “They aren’t for me. I put them up for-“ Dean's eyes grew wide.

            “Kevin? Really?”

             “No!” This was impossible. “I put them up for you, Dean. Just in case.”

              Now it was Dean’s turn to stare. Sam felt like he was being inspected from the inside out, as if Dean could read his internet history on his skin. Sam hoped he wouldn't judge him too much.

            “Where did you get that idea?” Sam decided that the truth in this situation was best kept to himself. And reminded himself to triple check that he deleted his internet history.

             “Watching. You can Cas are close. I thought-”

              Dean began to chuckle before bursting into laughter. He leaned his chair back, clutching his stomach. “Me and Cas. Really?” Sam smirked. It was kind of absurd when he thought about it.

              “You guys are good friends. I just wanted to make sure that you knew I didn’t care. Just in case.”

              Dean shuddered. “I can feel the girliness all over me.”

              Sam glared, bitchface perfectly in place. “Be serious, Dean.”

              Dean got up, wiping at his arms like he had something on them. “I’m being serious man. I feel like I have to go shoot something before I start talking about my feelings and singing the sound of music.”

              “Jerk.”

              “Bitch.”

               Sam smiled, leaning back in his chair. The crisis was over. Everything was back to normal.

              “Oh Sam.” Sam looked up to find Dean lingering at the doorway. He looked a bit nervous. “Uh, thanks.” Sam smiled, trying not to look surprised.

              “No problem.”

               Dean walked away, heading back down the hallway. Sam sighed, looking back down at the magnet and grabbed it, placing it once again on the refrigerator. So maybe he would never know. 

                It wouldn’t hurt, just in case.  
 

 


End file.
